


Rain Will Make the Flowers Grow

by Katydid_99



Series: If the Shoe Fits [4]
Category: Cinderella - All Media Types
Genre: Books, Depression, Gardens & Gardening, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Character of Color, Slow Burn, Spring, Suicidal Thoughts, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 19:08:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13130154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katydid_99/pseuds/Katydid_99
Summary: Annabelle makes a new friend.





	Rain Will Make the Flowers Grow

Time passed on as it was meant to. The icy diamond winter of the King’s Annual Ball was now a distant memory and the dreary wetness of the place between winter and spring was finally beginning to fade. On the first truly good day of the year- when the sky was bright and the air was just warm enough to go out without being smothered in furs- is when Lia woke excited.

Lia adored spring.  She loved the rebirth and the sweetness of the air and the fresh flower buds and the cute baby animals that would start to come out. But most importantly, she loved being able to go back to her real job. Marcus- bless his dorky, little soul- had been opting to build a greenhouse for years now, but to no avail. So for five dull months a year, she was confined to the palace to water plants and make flower arrangements for parties.

No. She much preferred it outside, with the sun on her shoulders and good soil between her fingers and toes.

She dressed quickly, sliding comfy trousers up her wide bottom and nearly putting on her shirt inside out without a bustier underneath. After a quick glance at the thermometer dangling outside the servant quarters’ window she opted to wear shoes this time and decided against her sunhat. She gathered all the tools she possessed (five months without weeding or trimming made a huge workload at the beginning of the season), tied her favorite red bandana around her neck, and waltzed out to the gardens.

Lia may be a servant of the palace, but here she is the queen.

***

She sees her for the first time that day. It’s around noon and Lia’s plan is to finish cutting this line of hedges before having a quick lunch by the fountain then getting back to work. She was rounding a corner and stopped short.

A girl sat on the marble bench in front of the magnolias. Her face was downturned to her lap, where she ballance a fat novel open to about the halfway point. Delicate, ash brown hair draped over her moon-pale face, which housed seashell pink lips and sad, earthy eyes. Her body was thin, almost unnaturally so, like the children she saw starving on the streets back home. A pale hand reached up to tug at the high collar of her grey dress, then pull at her baby blue wrap, and then to turn the page of her book. The girl reminded her of the grass found underneath a rock: pale, fragile, but still alive with a chance to grow.

Lia hadn’t realized she had been staring until hand went completely slack and her shears clattered inelegantly to the ground.

The girl whipped her head up with surprise and shut her book with a loud slap. Lia stood perfectly still with her heart racing, like a mouse caught in the seeds. “Er, sorry… Miss,” she apologized awkwardly, not really sure what she should call the girl, as she stooped to pick up the tool.

“Oh, it’s oka-” her quiet, hoarse voice stopped mid-phrase as she looked down at her book. She swore under her breath and reopened the thick tome. “I lost my place,” she muttered as she flipped through the pages.

“You were somewhere around the middle,” Lia offered as she entered closer.

She looked up, surprised. “Was I?” Returning her attention to the book she flipped to the middle and scanned the page in dismay. “I've been on autopilot this entire time; I don't remember reading any of this.”

“Well, at least now you can just start over.”

“I suppose so.” She suddenly did a double-take of Lia, this time dragging her look up and down.

Lia resisted the urge to fidget or glare. She was used to people’s stares- if not for the men’s pants and haircut then for her broad shoulders and rounded shape, and if not for that then for the warm beige skin and dark slanted eyes. People have always starred here, and there was nothing she could do about it. 

Didn't mean that she liked them doing it.

“Nice scarf,” the girl said.

“It’s comfortable,” Lia shot back, a little more forcefully than she meant to. The girl blinked in confusion and Lia felt her cheeks heat up. “I, uh…  _ ayah-  _ I've got to-” she motioned vaguely at the hedges behind her and she slunk backwards into the underbrush. A sigh of relief escaped when she found that the girl didn't try to follow her.

_ What was that all about?  _ She seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place her with a place or even a name. Shrugging, she went to finish the trimming, thinking of baby blue shawls and tiny pale hands the entire time.

***

“Oh!” The girl said as she nearly tripped over Lia’s feet as she weeded the next day. “Hello, again.”

“Miss,” she acknowledged with a nod.

She stood behind her for a moment, hugging her book to her chest and tugging at her skirt with her free hand, then she sat primly at a nearby bench and began to read.

Lia positioned herself onto her haunches and looked at her over her shoulder. “Have managed to find your place again?” she asked.

“Well, I-” she suddenly stopped and stared harder the the page she was on before releasing a long-suffering breath from her nose.

“Autopilot?”

“I guess. I don’t know why I can’t focus- it’s never been like this. Not since…” She trailed off, her eyes suddenly growing even sadder. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, making her irises shine like damp, forest moss.

Lia immediately rushed to her side. “Hey, hey! Don’t cry,” she begged. She never knew what to do with people when they started to cry. Hell, she barely knew what to do with people regardless of what they were feeling. Plants were so much easier; just give them water and a little time and they were good as gold.

Suddenly, Lia was struck with an idea. “Why don’t you read aloud?” she suggested. “That way I can help you if you get lost somewhere and remind you of your place.”

The girl blinked at her. “I’m afraid that I’m not a very good storyteller,” she admitted sadly.

Lia shrugged. “I wouldn't know a good one from a bad one.”

She laughed- a tiny, barely-noticeable huff of delighted air- and slowly nodded. “Okay then. I accept your arrangement.”

“ _ Qímiào!”  _ Lia exclaimed. The girl looked confused and Lia blushed. “Er, that is to say, great!” 

“Ah, okay. Well, chi-meow to you, too.”

Lia laughed loudly and went back to work. Behind her the girl delicately cleared her throat and flipped to the beginning of the book.

“During the whole of a dull, dark, and soundless day in the autumn of the year, when the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens,” she began, “I had been passing alone, on horseback, through a singularly dreary tract of country…”

***

The days seemed to blend together. Everyday Lia would meet with the mystery maiden in the gardens, Lia would do her duties, and she would read from her book (which, as it turns out, was not a single novel but a whole collection of beautifully dark short stories and poems). Lia would leave for lunch around noon, come back to find her still in place, and she’d continue reading until the light faded.

Lia was happy with the arrangement, but found herself longing to spend more time with the girl. She seemed a touch surprised when one noon Lia promptly sat next to her with sandwiches and tea, but did not object; she simply closed her book and shyly asked for a cuppa.  The shared lunches quickly became part of their shared daily routine. To avoid ruining her book reading was put on hold for an hour and the two would talk. Well, Lia would talk. Getting the other girl to speak was like pulling thistles.

“It’s funny,” Lia commented one day. “I know I’ve seen you around the palace, but I still have no idea who you are.”

The girl flushed slightly and stared down at her tea. “It’s complicated,” she said shortly.

“Do you work here?” Lia pressed, dissatisfied with one-or-two-word answers. 

She shook her head. “I suppose I’m something of a guest.”

“Nothing too important, I hope.”

The girl giggled. “Oh, no.”

“Good,” Lia breathed in relief. “You spend so much time out here- I’d feel awful if I was keeping you from anything.”

She kept her eyes trained on her tea. “It was Ele- er, the princess’s idea. It’s been getting warmer and she thought the air would be good for me.”

Lia was surprised. Not because she apparently knew the princess, especially on an apparent first name basis, but because of what she was alluding to. “Have you been ill?” she asked, suddenly concerned.

“I suppose so.” 

She silently stared down at her tea and the sandwich Lia had insisted she eat but left untouched. Before Lia could press for more information, she unexpectedly began to speak on her own accord.

“It’s complicated,” she repeated. “The princess said that this was an illness like any other, I certainly haven’t felt that way. I have no fever, I’m not bedridden, I’m not even vomiting anymore- involuntarily or otherwise. I… I’ve just been sad.”

“Sad?” 

The girl nodded and gave a tug at the high collar of her plain dress. “I realized recently that I’ve not been a very good person my entire life. I’ve done horrible things, evil things. I want to atone for them, but there’s no way for me to begin. So all I can do is think of what I’ve done and feel sad.

It was the most she had spoken since they had first met; a dam bursting a gallons of unspoken emotion flooding the land. Lia felt her heart burrowing into her feet, which now felt like lead, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask her to stop.

“It’s more distracting than you would think, too. I can’t bring myself to eat- though that’s nothing new- and sleeping’s hard, too. I can’t seem to focus on anything, even stuff I really like. I have been thinking about death alot, though; they make it sound so lovely and natural in the books I’ve read. I’m very afraid of what might happen if I were to die, but I’m not sure if I particularly care anymore.”

Her hands clenched on her teacup and she squeezed her eyes shut. The silence between the two women was deafening.

“My mother killed herself when I was thirteen, after my father died in the war.” Lia blurted. The girl’s eyes opened and she looked up at Lia. Swallowing the bit of bread caught in her throat, she continued, “I was alone for years after that, just struggling to get by day to day. I was lonely, and I just wanted to be with my family again. I was about to pitch myself of a bridge when Marcus found me- just my luck he was in China for diplomatic business, I suppose. I stayed with him during his visit, we became friends, and when he offered to take me back home with him I accepted. I still miss my family, unbearably some days, but now I have friends and a garden and now you.”

Lia sighed and swiped absently at her eyes. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that life can get really dark, but you’ll never know what the light looks like unless you continue through the tunnel.”

The girl was quiet. She blinked once then extended one of her pale, pretty hands. “I’m Annabelle.” she introduced.

Lia was stunned as she took Annabelle’s hand and shook it. Her palm was cool and soft in her beat up hand, which she was certain was sweating right now. “Camellia- like the flower. But everyone calls me Lia.”

She- Annabelle- smiled, and the air suddenly warmed exponentially. “I think I am glad to have met you.”

Lia smiled back. “I think I am, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> The book Annabelle's reading is an Edgar Allen Poe anthology, starting with "The Fall of the House of Usher"
> 
> Camellias are the national flower of southern China. In Chinese culture it's a symbol of young women. In the Victorian language of flowers, it means "I think you're adorable."


End file.
